Hold Back the Night
by Tundrahawk
Summary: [Based off the new single by The Protomen.] Ticking clocks always seem to accompany him, and dreary voices in chorus moaning, "There must be an end to the darkness. There must be an end to the darkness." How often has she stumbled on the Doctor in his office in the early hours of the morning, clutching his head, murmuring the same?


Oh, how it all burns. She watches from her window, twenty stories high. Sniper Joes haunt the roofs, stand in a phalanx against the mob under a line of swinging traffic lights. It sounds like clockwork when they start shooting, clockwork screams when the rioters fall. But it's the flames that hold her gaze. Blooming from an overturned car, climbing like spiders up the loudspeakers that line the street. Could this be the kind of light that shines—over there?

When she was a kid, she couldn't stand to believe it. All those fairy tales the other kids ate up and bought wholesale. A place where you can see the sun in the sky. Where you don't have to fear the robots. Now it feels as if her heart won't be still until she's seen it.

"Until I've made it mine!"

As if she could punch through it with those words. The fear that surrounds her, fear of the darkness, fear of the light. The fear that whispers—as a child she used to hopscotch on the sidewalk below. Now she has to carry a knife make it home after sunset.

"Now I'm the only one who keeps me alive!"

Fear be damned. She'll go. But she'll need protection. She grabs the Helmet from its prized place atop the bookcase, slips it over her head. Pauses at a shout below. She turns to watch once more, her reflection unfamiliar to her below its helm of blue.

"There's a face I've seen in the windows," she whispers.

Yes, she believes in the Hero. He saved her. That must be why she survived that massacre ten years ago. Yes, the Doctor carried her away, but the Hero—she won't believe what anyone says about him. He must've been fighting as hard as he could. Saving as many people as he could. But who can hold back Wily's army for long?

"I know we won't fight alone."

She sees him as he must've been that night. Slashing through the robots and the darkness both. And in the arcs of his solar cannon—fire, light! Sees him slicing through the eternal cloud of smog that engulfs the city, letting the sun break through at last.

"I know a Hero will come!"

A lamp snaps on. So the Doctor isn't asleep. She waits for him to calm, instead hears slippered steps shuffling through the hallway. "There must…" Ticking clocks always seem to accompany him, and dreary voices in chorus moaning, "There must be an end to the darkness… There must be an end to the darkness…" How often has she stumbled on him in his office in the early hours of the morning, clutching his head, murmuring the same? "There must be an end to the darkness." But now his steps seem to sigh:

"No one will come. This city is dead."

The Doctor stands in the doorway, framed by fluorescence, his white hair haloed by the light.

"But all your heroes are gone," he wheezes, limping forward. "And the blood that they spilled is on my hands."

She hurries forward to steady him. For in his haste to get away from whatever nightmare he woke from, he forgot his cane by his bed.

"Darkness will block out the sun!" he barks, grabbing her shoulders. "Nothing can be done with so few men—that a hero couldn't do!"

She's never seen him like this before. In the false morning, the flickering flames outside, his eyes almost seem to burn red.

"What are you saying, Doctor?" she asks, forcing out a smile.

But he's reached up to touch her face. His hand meets the scarred metal of the helmet instead. It rests there for a long time.

"My son," he whispers.

Who's he mistaken her for this time?

"Don't go," he whispers, his voice breaking with each word. "I was wrong. Don't go… Rock…"

"It's me, Doctor!" she blurts out. "Roll!" Even using that stupid pet name she's hated for years. "I'm going to help them out down there," she adds quickly, "but I'll be back."

"Don't go…"

He pulls her close and from the way he shakes she knows he's about to start weeping. She breaks away. Fuck this. Fuck the robots that've made them so fearful, brought them so low. Fuck how feeble the Doctor's become, this weakened man who can hardly stand on his own, who nearly bends in two as he lowers himself down in his armchair. Was it that long ago he was carrying this whole block of people on his shoulders? Curing their sicknesses, treating their wounds? Was it his trembling hands that made the metal leg she stands on now?

"When the voice in the shadows calls you," she shouts, "when the wind whips past your ears—will you stand when the weight is upon you? Or will you fall to your knees in fear!"

He flinches at those words.

"There's a chance they'll succeed," she says. "Even though I know it's a long shot. But this city's out of time!"

"It's all for naught if your heart stops beating," the Doctor says.

"Why?"

"Because you're the only one who keeps me alive," he whispers.

Her eyes blur at those words. But she blinks it away.

"But I know a Hero will come," she breathes.

"All of your heroes are gone," the Doctor says hoarsely.

"Even so. Someone's go to—"

"No one's left to—"

"Bring back the light!" she drowns him out.

"A darkness will block out the sun—"

"If we can't find a way to hold back the night!" she counters.

The Doctor's done arguing. He knows it's no use stopping her. He's seen two go like this before. One he encouraged. One he pleaded with all his life to stay. It made no difference what he wished, in the end.

"Go to the scrapyard," he says, steeling his voice for these final words. "On the outskirts of the city. You'll find Him there."

The Doctor speaks of the fields of massacre of ten years ago, where thousands of Wily's machines fell. Their rusted carcasses still rest there. And the carcasses of humans too, the fields of wheat the Wily's machines scythed and shot down when the Hero turned away. She remembers nothing from that night. Even how the Doctor rescued her from the robot that took her parents and sliced off her leg, she had to hear secondhand. It's the fairy tales he told her as a bedridden child that she remembers. How he led her through the hallways until she could stand on crutch and leg. And the twelve hour operation like a fever dream; he brushed the hair from her forehead and she awoke. And she had become whole again.

"He will tell you the rest," the Doctor finishes.

"He," she repeats. "Do you mean—the Hero?"

When the Doctor doesn't answer she steps closer.

"Was he your son?"

"Hush, child," the Doctor barks. "Go!"

And he points to the door, stern as a cross. But on the sill she turns back, whispers two last words.

"Goodbye, Father."

Then he hears the door slam, the steps sprint down the hallway, the steps ricochet down twenty flights of stairs. Once again. He hears once again. Yet this time his eyes close. This time he won't follow.

* * *

Lyrics incorporated from _Hold Back the Night_ by The Protomen

Story cover: cover of _This City Made Us_ single by The Protomen


End file.
